


Twisted

by hdarchive



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, older!blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hdarchive/pseuds/hdarchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine pulls a muscle whilst in the throes of passion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted

He thinks he might break him.

Fast, fast, hips like a whip, snapping forward in a quick rhythm. His heart is galloping, trying to keep up, but he doesn’t stop. Ignores the burn in his thighs, calves, lungs.

He doesn’t focus on that, because if he did, it would take away from Kurt, and he wants to memorize every aspect of Kurt, for the rest of his days.

Cheek pressed to the mattress, arms braced on either side of his head, Kurt whines, breathing fast.

He’s seen it dozens of times, and it never ceases to amaze him. Maybe it’s the fact that he can. Maybe it’s the fact that after months of wondering, hating himself as he tried to fall asleep because he couldn’t stop dreaming about it, about him, he finally gets to know.

Kurt’s back is a canvas of freckles and hickeys, Blaine’s hands leaving red marks where he’s gripping him tight. Kurt’s hands are curled into fists, grabbing at the blanket and squeezing tighter with every push of Blaine’s cock, relaxing only slightly when he pulls out.

“Oh - god -” Kurt cries, pushing back when Blaine sinks in again, clenching around him.

And the sounds he makes - _fuck_ , how could he hear anything else? Why would he want to? Kurt’s voice lowers, scratches, like _want_ and _need_ are tearing him apart. And Blaine can control it - ? By thrusting faster, harder, demanding with every push, and Kurt cries out, like he can’t take anymore, but he does.

“That’s it,” Blaine groans, digging his fingers in deeper, pulling Kurt back onto his cock, watching as it sinks into his hole. “Come on, baby.”

It’s just - difficult, after a while, because Kurt never seems to have enough, and Blaine can never seem to give enough. He always has to slow down, because his lungs feel like they’re full of smoke, trapped concrete air.

Not now, he won’t stop now, Kurt looks so beautiful and even if his muscles are screaming at him to stop, he can’t -

He thrusts forward, fucking into Kurt as fast as before, and freezes.

A snapped string, shattering glass, a song of pain that plays loud through his entire body - his back spasms. Everything else stops around him, entire mind and body focused on this one point in his back, muscles tightening and twisting, locking up so he can’t move.

It hurts. It more than hurts. It’s an iron dagger pierced straight through his muscles, stealing the breath right out from his lungs, the urge to throw up smacking him straight to the stomach.

“Jesus christ,” he mutters, low and dark and hard in his throat.

The rest of him clenches up, to keep from moving, because if he moves it’s being stabbed all over again -

He heaves out his breath, but his exhale feels like a fucking gunshot.

“Blaine?”

Kurt’s voice is hardly enough to clear out the pain.

“Yeah. Yeah -” he grits out, jaw hard and teeth grinding.

Kurt gasps, not the kind Blaine wants to hear, pained, and Blaine forces his eyes open to see that he’s pinching at Kurt’s skin.

“You stopped,” Kurt says, slowly, annoyed. “Are you okay?”

Blaine laughs, forced, but has to break away to groan. It’s overwhelming, in ways he can’t process. On one hand, there’s the mind-melting pain, making him nauseous - and on the other, his cock is still half in Kurt’s ass, Kurt warm and perfect around him.

“I, um - I can’t move.” Kurt immediately tries to push himself up, and Blaine stifles his cry, yells out, “ _Don’t_ \- don’t try to move either.”

“What the -” Kurt calls out, beginning to sound panicked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Blaine stutters, “Just - just give me a second, okay?” Words fade from his brain, their definitions completely lost to him, language a strange concept when all he can think is _holy fucking shit_. Kurt tries to look over his shoulder, the movement enough to set Blaine off, and he has to snap, “Kurt! _Please_ \- don’t move!”

Forcing his breath in, swallowing hard, Blaine puts his hands on either side of Kurt’s ass, and pushes away from him. Once he’s out, he collapses, falling onto his hands and knees, ragged inhales and desperate exhales. He can’t move, he can’t move, Kurt’s scrambling to sit up and he can’t move - “Jesus - jesus christ -”

“Blaine -” Kurt yelps, frantic, carefully resting a hand over Blaine’s shoulder. “Blaine, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay!”

He doesn’t mean to yell, it’s just the weight of the pain pressing at his mind, frustration and patience at war with each other.

“Don’t yell at me!” Kurt scolds, but his voice quickly lowers into fear. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m - I’m sorry, baby,” Blaine babbles, reaching behind himself to place a hand over the spot that’s flaring. “It’s just my back.”

“What about your back?

He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it. Embarrassment, shame - of all the feelings he could be feeling right now, those are the ones that creep up his neck, colouring his face red.  He stares at the bedspread and tries to think of ways to say this without _really_ saying this -

“I - I think I pulled something.”

Kurt’s staring at him, he can feel it. Hot on his back, judgement in his eyes.

“Oh,” Kurt says. Then he starts to laugh, loud and deep, a wave of torment to Blaine’s ears.

“Don’t laugh!” Blaine yells, hissing, twisting his neck to glare at Kurt. “I’m - I’m getting old, Kurt!”

Face scrunched up, eyes delighted and bright, Kurt laughs again and says, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Kurt, please.”

“Okay, okay, lay down, and just stay still,” Kurt instructs, moving up the bed and slowly guiding Blaine until he’s resting against the pillows, and the pain instantly recedes, a glowing dark ember left behind. Kurt sits next to him, naked side pressed to his, tracing light, soothing patterns up and down his side. “You know, this is kind of . . hot.”

“Hot?” Blaine squeaks, nearly jerking up. “I might never walk again and you think it’s hot?”

He knows his grey hair turns Kurt on, even if he has to go through relentless teasing because of it. And he knows Kurt likes the lines on his face, the stubble of his beard, his rough hands across his skin.

But sometimes it’s just so hard to believe.

“Look at it my way,” Kurt says, sweetly. “You were giving it to me so hard, you pulled a muscle. Some would call that heroic.”

Blaine chuckles, quickly turning into a groan. “Some would call that arthritis.”

Kurt laughs against his cheek, pressing a kiss to it and smiling.  His hand disappears, trailing down Blaine’s chest, touch light as air, and finds his cock, wrapping around it and pumping it slowly, almost teasingly.

Blaine closes his eyes, lost in the feeling, pleasure much more loud than pain for once.

“Is it okay if I do this?” he hears Kurt ask, and opens his eyes to watch as Kurt positions himself over Blaine’s lap, not sitting but instead sinking down.

“If I don’t have to move, it’s completely okay,” he sighs, moving his hands to hold onto Kurt’s thighs, feeling the muscles flex and tighten every time Kurt’s ass slides over his cock. “I’m sorry though, Kurt. I can’t - I can’t keep up with you anymore.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Kurt says, reaching behind him, keeping Blaine’s cock in place as he fucks himself back on it. “We can start going to couples yoga, maybe visit a chiropractor or two. You’ll be good as new.”

“Yoga? You want me to do yoga?” Blaine laughs, nervously, and slides his hands up Kurt’s sides to rest on his waist. “You’re not going to love me anymore if you see me do yoga.”

Face bright with his smile, Kurt leans down, carefully, and places a kiss to the tip of Blaine’s nose.

“Blaine, at this point, I think I’ll love you through anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> I should really be writing the things I'm meant to be writing....... but older!blaine D:


End file.
